


The Otherworlds

by Rachaelanian



Category: None - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 14:32:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachaelanian/pseuds/Rachaelanian
Summary: When college student Lily Masters goes poking around her recently deceased Aunt and Uncle's barn in the Pacific Northwest, she expects to find rusty farm tools, ancient family portraits, and spiders happily spinning cobwebs. She does not expect to find a hole in the fabric of reality that leads her to discover a group of 'slightly insane' guardians that protect the inhabitants of Earth from those gates into separate realities; the Otherworlds.Turns out that these guardians- lovingly nicknamed 'Jumpers'- have been doing this job for centuries, lying low behind the scenes and acting as invisible guardians. Keeping the Earth (relatively) safe from all Otherworldly threats that squeeze through the thirteen gates that connect to Earth.That is, until now.When teams start going missing due to some unknown phenomenon, Lily must work to find out what is causing it with the help of a nutella loving cat, a Jumper who already saved her from being eaten, and a sassy all-powerful house in space to save the Earth and the Otherworlds from a darkness that has been here from the beginning of time.A darkness that threatens everything and everyone they have ever known.





	1. Prologue -Color Clouds-

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the first few chapters, I actually have an entire book written (well that's something I'd never thought I'd be saying seriously) that is about 108,000 words long, but I'm trying to get it published, and would love some feedback from anyone who would be willing to give it. I would love any opinions and pointers you have.

The vast expanse of the swirling masses was overwhelming. Hundreds of thousands of individual clusters of clouds danced around each other never seeming to touch. The sizes were impressive; many of the giants in view could hold a large city with room to spare. But it was the colors that made them so mesmerizing. Each cloud was both its own array of the same color, and all colors at once. Weaving peaks of blues and golds gave way to shadowy canyons of pinks and maroons. Scattered among the mists were small islands of...well, not rock exactly. This material was a bit spongier to the touch, perhaps making them easier to float with the haze. But they were solid nonetheless, and numerous; even though most of them were only small boulders. It was on one of these small islands that a pair of worn down figures stood, quietly studying the puffy vapor roll past them.  
“Do you think it’ll be safe here?” posed the figure on the right.  
Whatever echo would have been had from that statement was lost to the sky, and their words fell flat.  
The adjacent figure took some time to think before answering. They looked down at their hands and shuffled their feet before leaning their head back and looking up at the sky.  
“Its funny,” they said, “I don’t think there’s any sun in this world. Only the light of the clouds. I wonder if there’s any moon at night,” they chuckled, “I wonder if there is a night.”  
The right figure seemed to be accustomed to receiving indirect answers such as this, and patiently asked again.  
“Do you think it will be safe here?”  
The never-ending shift of the nebula before them was as ceaseless as ever. Colors that had no name danced and spun and warped around like some great, atmospheric ballet, with only the wind as the choreographer.  
The left figure continued to stare at the expanse, as if they never heard the other.  
“I wonder if there is a night.”


	2. Commander and Sergeant

“Yeah… not going to lie, I kind of don't want to be in this situation right now.”  
I was currently stranded in a vast sea of cardboard boxes, with my only boat a small folding chair, and my only lifeline the corded phone that I had stretched from the kitchen to the dining room (not a small feat by the way) to contact the outside world; namely my best friend since grade school, Alice.  
I shifted one of the boxes with my foot to avoid crushing a set of small ivory figures on my way to the chair.  
I heard a laugh from the other line “Well I didn’t really think so, but hey, good for you for sticking with it today for… what is this, hour six?”  
I flipped the phone to my other shoulder and picked up another box, this one was filled with what appeared to be corks, “Hour eight, actually.” I said.  
“Oh. Well hey girl, hope you’re having a teeeerrific time!” she gushed in her best preppy voice, which she knew I absolutely hated.  
“Hardy-har-har.” I said dryly. I knew she was only trying to help, but hey, I’d been here doing nothing but packing boxes for a full work day. I was not having a ‘teeeerrific’ time.  
“Seriously, Alice,” I continued, “They had a lot of stuff. And when I say a lot I don’t mean just like a room, I mean a lot of stuff.”  
“How old were they again?” she asked.  
“Well, Great Uncle Terry was 79, and Great Aunt Susan was 72.”  
“Wow, thats a lot of time to collect said stuff.”  
“Yeah, and I can honestly say that they used every minute of it.” I switched the phone again, “I’m only done with like, half of the house. I still have the barn, and two other sheds that need going through. I don’t think it’s humanly possible to do it all.”   
“Oh come on, I’m sure it isn’t that bad.”  
I responded by taking out my cell phone and sending a picture of where I was standing.  
“...Oh.”   
“Yeah.”  
“Is, uh, that just the dinning room?”  
“Yup”  
“Well,” she said, “I stand corrected. You need a team of superheroes.”  
“Ah, yes, thank you that’s exactly what I need. Why didn’t I think of that sooner? Perhaps I should give the Avengers a call?”  
She laughed, “When are your parents coming up?”  
“Hopefully in the next couple of weeks so I can go home and start work. I’m just here looking after the place so no one robs it while we're moving everything out.” I explained, “Apparently that’s a thing that happens when people die and leave behind a big house with untold treasures inside.” I finished dramatically, attempting to spin in a circle. That was a stupid idea for two reasons; one, I was in an unstable abyss of cardboard, and two, I had a corded phone. So in a matter of seconds I was teetering on the brink of plunging headfirst into a box of blue patterned china, and also managed to entrap myself in the indestructible confines of the phone cord.  
Today was going great.  
“Woah, are you ok over there?” I heard Alice ask concernedly while trying to right myself.  
“Yeah,” I panted, narrowly avoiding a table. “Yeah I was just, you know, being myself.”  
“Clumsy and uncoordinated?”  
“You got it.”  
“Nice.”  
“How are you doing by the way? Have you gotten the cast off yet?” I asked.  
“Yeah I’m doing ok. And no, I have not. Apparently I need another week at least to let the bones set before they can pull it off.”  
I winced, “Oooh I’m sorry for bringing it up. That sucks. Are you at least out of the wheelchair by now?”  
“Nope, next week as well.” she sighed, “Stupid car. Stupid drunk driver. Stupid world.” she grumbled.  
Alice had been driving home one night from a friends house and had a bit of run in with a drunk driver, literally. The other driver walked away, but Alice suffered a totaled car, a broken right leg, and a strong distaste for alcohol. She would fit in well with the modern prohibitionists.  
I hid my laughter at her mumbling, “I know, I know. But hey, soon you will be running and jumping around, and flying all the way out here just to help me pack!” I said sarcastically.  
“Ha-ha. If I could afford to I would be there as soon as possible. You know how it is.”  
Indeed I did, because it was the same for me too.  
“Yeah I know, maybe someday when we get rich, eh?”  
She laughed darkly, “Yeah, maybe someday.”  
I danced around a few more boxes to the edge of the sea and finally stood on both feet at once.  
“Well, thanks for calling by the way, you saved me from my responsibilities for a while.” I glanced up at one of the five clocks in the room and saw that it was about four in the afternoon. It would be getting dark soon, and I had to close up the shed. “I should probably go, got lots more to do. For all eternity it seems.”  
“Alright, well can I call tomorrow? Its boring here sitting in bed all the time. I think I’ve watched the entirety of YouTube.”  
I chuckled, “Yeah for sure, I’ll be around; though I might be out in the barn for a bit tomorrow. So don’t freak if I don’t pick up.”  
“No problem commander, be safe out there in the trenches. And the creepy barn. Sergeant Minnley, out!” she cried, “You, uh, can’t see, but I’m saluting you” she added.  
I laughed again, “No problem Sergeant, as you were.” I put two fingers up to my temple for a return salute, “Commander Masters signing off!” I said resolutely.  
We both laughed for a bit at our inability to move on from the playground.  
“G’bye Alice.”  
“G’bye Lily, don’t go insane!”  
Click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, it picks up soon.


	4. A Mom Thing

After I had navigated my way back to the kitchen to hang up the phone, I went to look out the window. It was a still day outside; the rain seemed to be falling in an endless rhythm and the mists drifted lazily across the front of the house. It was quiet tonight, unlike last night, in which silence was held captive by what I assumed to be a mid-autumn last hurrah of partying and firing guns. The neighbors out here were considered eccentric, to put it in polite terms.  
I stretched over the sink to peek over at the barn, and… yep. Still looked haunted. It was easily one of the creepiest places on the property. I never understood why Aunt Susan never even put a light outside it. Its simple structure and plain dark wood siding gave it a grey hue in this light, making it look like some above-ground dungeon. Its large dark windows in the hayloft could have been eyes, and the wide door on the bottom level could be the mouth, agape in terror at the inky blackness that was inside.  
Unsurprisingly I hadn’t tackled the barn just yet. Even in broad daylight that place gave me the creeps. I knew I needed to stop being a pansy and just get it over with, but there was a small part inside me that recoiled at the thought of being in there alone. Probably the same part that can still call myself Commander Lily Masters: Defender of All.  
I sank back on my heels and went to get my shoes from the hallway; the shed below the house was still open from this morning when I attempted to locate a hammer to remove nails from the walls. That had also turned out to be a mistake, when the first step in the door caused me to simultaneously break a rake lying nearby, and a snow globe on the shelf.  
As I mentioned before, not super coordinated.  
After tugging on my shoes I unhooked the shed key from the peg on the wall, grabbed my jacket, heading out into the rain and down the porch steps to the shed.  
Walking down the gentle slope to the lower property, I turned around and looked up at the house. I studied the old, clouded windows, the peaked roof, and the general air of… just plain  
ancient. Like the concept of time came along after the house was constructed. I couldn’t help but think of all of the things that have happened here. All of the everyday living, all of the children growing up, the laughter, the crying. The life.  
And most recently, my Great Aunt and Uncle.  
Great Uncle Terry and Great Aunt Susan were from my Dad’s side of the family. They were brother and sister who had been married at one point in their lives, but both outlived their spouses and decided to move back to ye olde homestead together. I didn’t know who they were married to, or where they lived before. That was a bit before my time, and they never talked about it.   
Even though my family and I had visited them numerous times before, I knew very little about them. In fact I don’t think anyone really knew the full story behind the brother and sister duo. They were my Grandpa's younger siblings, but even when my Grandparents were alive we never heard a word about them. Then again, Grandpa wasn’t exactly talkative. About anything, really.  
Grandma had passed away about a year before Grandpa did, and we almost never saw Grandpa Masters after the funeral; at least, not until it was his turn. Not many people showed up for either of the services; Grandma and Grandpa Masters mostly just kept to themselves. We didn’t even get to see them often, let alone neighbors that lived miles away. And even when we came over, they acted like they couldn’t wait for us to leave. I never understood why. At Grandpa’s funeral, out of nowhere, we met Uncle Terry and Aunt Susan, who told us that they were my Grandpa’s siblings and were happy to meet us. Though we were a bit stunned, we welcomed them (no sense turning away family, no matter how late to the game they were) and got to know them as best we could while at the service. Well, I say ‘we’, but it was mostly my Mom. She had a knack for making friends. It must be a Mom thing.  
As we got to know them, they started telling us about the family homestead back in Oregon. We had heard Grandpa talk a little about growing up there, but I think we just assumed it was sold off to some investor and that was the end of that. But apparently it’s been in the family for generations, and occupied for a couple of centuries.  
Well, except for now.  
I was fifteen when we first met them, and I liked them straight away. They were kind, polite people who had an off-color sense of humor that matched my own. When we first met during the service, they offered our whole family to come up to the house for a weekend, as they said they had  
plenty of rooms and would love to get to know us. And so me, my Mom and Dad, and my older brother Oliver took a road trip to go meet the family we never knew. Over time it became a regular thing we did on holidays.  
I remember the first time I saw the house; I thought it was something out of a storybook. It looked a bit like an old museum, with its dark brown wood and chimneys poking up here and there. Frankly, I was nervous to go in and accidentally break something because I’m, well, me. But once we were inside, it felt like home. Everything in there was well loved and meant to be used. Not a blanket was wasted if you were cold; and any dish was up for use, no matter how fancy it looked. Their policy was ‘If it’s on this Earth, it’s ours to use with care and respect.’  
As soon as I met them, I immediately wanted to know more about them and the life they led before they came to live back in the house, because they carried themselves as people who had seen a lot. They were usually talkative, but had a great knack for redirecting the conversation, especially Uncle Terry. Anytime I ever made any progress working back in their past, we would somehow end up on another subject, for example: trains and their impact on the Civil War- for a few hours.  
We all had so much fun getting to know them, that we forgot that our time with them was limited.  
About a month ago as I was pulling out of my apartment complex parking lot as a newly finished college junior, all packed up and ready to go home for the season, when I got a tearful call from my mom, telling me that Great Uncle Terry and Great Aunt Susan had died together in a car crash on the way home from the grocery store. It seemed that even though the crash wasn’t that severe, due to complications with their hearts, they didn’t make it. They were pronounced dead on the scene.  
After a while of talking with my mom, the plan was made that since I was closest to the house in Oregon, I would move in after the funeral and take care of the place until we could figure everything out.  
We put together a funeral for them; tried to find a nice place to gather in their small town of Stars Crossing. We put word in with the townsfolk and a few people even showed up to pay their respects. But it was pretty quiet for the most part.  
I was a bit of a wreck at the service. I didn’t know why it hit me so hard, but I felt like I’d lost a pair of old friends, even though I had only known they’d existed for five years.  
So that’s what I was doing here: figuring everything out and trying to pack up the house for storage.  
Because there was one small thing we hadn’t expected;  
They left everything they had owned to us.  
And when I say everything, I mean everything. All the property, and all the things therein.  
And that included the nightmare-inducing barn which now I had to go through alone. Probably tomorrow. Alone. In the rain. Alone. With a flashlight. Did I mention alone?  
I turned away from the house and continued down the slope to the shed. I glanced up at the gray expanse of the sky. It got darker earlier here than it did back home; maybe it was just because it was rainy tonight.  
I peered inside the old metal shed and grabbed the flashlight that was on the table to the right of the door, and clicked it on. I had to shake it a bit to stop it from flickering, but it worked eventually. I shined it around the back of the structure looking for any bats that may have nestled in tonight to get out of the rain. I saw many dusty boxes, metal shelves, and pieces of furniture, but no bats. I looked down and saw a rusty bucket that was empty. I picked it up and gave it a bang on the wall just to get any animal out before I closed up for the night, but nothing stirred. Satisfied, I switched off the flashlight, put it back on the table, and locked the door.  
On the way back up, I looked at the barn and sighed.  
Alright, I will go in tomorrow and check it out. For sure, this time.  
The barn just stared at me, like it was issuing a challenge. Its gaping black mouth of a door made the mist that was swirling look like ghosts out for an evening stroll, and I did not appreciate that.  
After I got back into the house I had just enough time to put the keys back on the peg and remove my jacket when the phone rang.  
I hopped over a few boxes and answered it.  
“Hello?”  
“Hey sweetie, it me.” the voice over the phone was just as kind and sweet as always, albeit a bit staticky.  
“Hey Mom, what’s up?”  
“Oh nothing, just checking on you is all. How is everything up there? Raining still?”  
I laughed, “Everything’s fine. And its Oregon, of course it’s raining still. How is everything at home? Any word on your work schedules?”  
“Yes, yes everything is fine here too, and no,” I heard her take a deep breath, “We still don’t know about work yet.”  
“Ok, so like another week?”  
“More like another couple weeks probably. Maybe a month.”  
“Oh.”  
She was quiet for a minute. “I know it’s lonely up there, and I know you’re under a weird set of circumstances, but until we know more about where everything is going and what we are doing with the house, the best thing for you to do is just to stay put.”  
I tightened my grip on the phone. “Have you guys had any more discussions on… you know…” I trailed off.  
“We still don’t know if we can keep the house yet, honey.”  
“I know.”  
“I just don’t want you to get your hopes up just yet.”  
“I know.”  
There was a stretch of awkward silence.  
She she cleared her throat, “Well, I know you have a lot to do, sorry for stranding you up in the backwoods for two weeks. Well, more than two weeks. Have you eaten tonight?”  
“Mom don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. The solitude is nice actually. I was just looking forward to seeing you guys, it’s been a while. I mean, I guess we met at the funeral, but you know, like actually see you guys for more than a day.”  
“I know, we miss you too. And as a Mom I have to ask again, have you eaten tonight?”  
I rolled my eyes a little and smiled, “No Mom, I haven’t eaten yet. It’s only like 4:30. I’ll grab something soon, I promise.”  
“Ok, are you getting regular meals? I mean are you ok up there by yourself?”  
She was worried, she tried to hide it, but I could tell.  
“Mom, its not like before,” I said quietly, “I’m doing just fine right now. Really, I’m good now. You don’t have to worry, I’m taking care of myself.”  
“Of course you are honey, I just-”  
“I know.” I broke in, “You worry.”  
“It’s a Mom thing,” she said.  
“It’s a Mom thing.” I agreed.  
It was quiet for a bit.  
“Well, I’ll let you go,” she started again, “I hope you have a good sleep tonight, and we’ll be in touch. Have you gotten your cell phone to work out there yet?”  
“I think I found a spot in the living room that I can send texts, but that's it so far.”  
“Hm… let me know if you can send any more than texts ok?”  
“Will do.”  
“Alright, love you much, goodnight!”  
“Goodnight Mom, love you too.”  
Click.


	5. Tales of Lofts and Pasta

I hung the phone back on the wall and leaned up against the cabinet looking out the window. The rain had let up, and now the fog had really rolled in. I couldn't even see the shed where I had just come from.  
I started thinking about food. I really didn’t want to cook anything, and I really didn’t want to go anywhere either. Not that Stars Crossing offered a great assortment of food options, but they did have a pretty good Chinese place, the grocery store, and a Subway. Because every town has a Subway.  
I settled on making pasta. That required minimal effort and all I had to do was put sticks into a pot and watch it get made into softer sticks. And by sticks I meant noodles.  
Grabbing a pot, I started some water boiling. I then found my edible sticks and put them on the counter. Now all I had to do was wait.  
As the water boiled I let myself take in my surroundings. The kitchen was a cozy little place, with a mixture of wood paneling, and river rock backsplash. The wooden floor was made soft and smooth from decades of shuffling feet. An old-fashioned range stood watch from the corner, no longer in use. I think I remembered Aunt Susan saying that the gas stove (the one I was currently using) was put in around the 60’s to replace the range. Good thing too, as I would probably burn down the house trying to navigate the range.  
I closed my eyes. I heard the bubbling of the water next to me, the wind in the trees outside, and as I listened more, the soft tic-tic of water on the roof. I guess it had started to rain again. I breathed in, and this time caught the scent of pine trees, and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.  
A few minutes went by, and I heard the water starting to boil. I put the pasta in the pot, and dropped a lid on top.  
A little while later I was carrying a steaming bowl of buttered pasta to the one place in the house that I hadn’t started packing: my room.  
When we came to stay here for the first time five years ago, we got to pick our rooms that we would stay in. This place wasn’t a mansion, but it was definitely bigger than it looked from the outside. Besides the kitchen and living room, the rest of the house contained a study, parlor, a few small areas to gather in, five bedrooms, and more hallways than I could count. After we had had a general tour, we asked what the round window in the top of the house went to. Aunt Susan smiled, shared a small sideways glance at Uncle Terry, and said the loft.  
Oliver and I looked at each other in surprise.  
“You guys have a loft?” I had asked in amazement  
“That’s where your Aunt and I used to sleep when we were kids.” he then looked at our faces, that were filled to the brim with curiosity, and said, “Would you like to go up?”  
I’m pretty sure we looked like bobble heads.  
Uncle Terry glanced up at my parents for the go ahead, and when he saw we were clear for take off, cried, “To the Loft, and wherever else fate takes us!” and ran up the stairs.  
We were shortly behind him. The man was almost 74 years old at the time, but he still carried himself like he was in his twenties. How he ever managed not to break anything while we were there, I’ll never know.  
What awaited us when we got up the stairs was Uncle Terry standing by a back wall.  
“How do we get to the the top?” asked Oliver, his eyes lit up, “Do we get in through the roof?” he looked a little too excited.  
Uncle Terry laughed, “Not exactly.” he then reached up and tugged on a brown leather cord that we didn’t see before. It was attached to a hatch door, and down swung an old wooden stepladder; apparently our way up to the loft. He motioned for us to head on up, which we did without hesitation.  
Oliver went up first (he always went first) and all I could hear from him was a low awestruck resonance of ‘woooooah’. When my head cleared the floorboards I joined him.  
The space was larger than I thought it would be, and full of warmth and light. A couple of beds were pressed against the sides of the peaked roof, with a pair of end tables and lamps to match. A large round stained glass window was directly in front of us, between the two beds, and was made of a kind of gold colored glass with a strange symbol in the center. Lines and circles interlocked to make a kind of snowflake shape. I didn’t know what it meant, but made a note to ask later. I looked up at the exposed beams above us and saw that someone had laced christmas lights all around the room, adding to the warmth and color. We got up into the room fully and looked around. Now, we weren’t little kids, I was 15 and Oliver was 17 at the time, but we felt like we were about seven.  
Uncle Terry came up behind us and asked, “Well, how do you both like it?”  
I looked at Oliver, and then back at the Christmas lights. “You know, these were on when we came in, and I’m pretty sure you didn’t have time to turn them on just now.” I cocked my head, “How did you know we would ask to come up? You didn’t include it on the tour.”  
He gave a wry smile, eyes twinkling. “Just call it a feeling. Did you kids want to stay up here?”  
Was it even a question? We both nodded emphatically. Uncle Terry smiled and turned to go, “Alright then you young whippersnappers. I’ll let your parents know.”  
“Uncle Terry?” called Oliver  
“Yeah?” he turned over his shoulder.  
“You’re kind of the coolest person in the universe.”  
“Oh believe me, I know.” he chuckled, and walked out of sight.  
I got up the stairs and looked at the ladder, remembering the day, and smiled. He really had been the coolest person in the universe. Well, next to Aunt Susan anyway.  
Pasta in hand I ascended the ladder. The Loft hadn’t changed much since that day, with the exception of the the two twin beds being moved to the back behind the ladder and being replaced by a queen sized bed under the window. I attributed that in response to Oliver getting married last year. I expect they thought we were getting too old to share a room together. Plus he now had a wife, which was still weird to me.  
Reaching underneath the bedside table I grabbed my laptop and headphones and sat against the headboard. Propping open my computer I searched for something to watch, settling on Star Trek (the originals of course) and popped in my headphones. They had a TV downstairs, but it felt weird to set it up just for me, and there was never anything on anyways. Plus the wifi was pretty good up here, surprisingly.  
Chowing down on my pasta, I let myself be taken into the vast universe of Captain Kirk and the crew. In the current episode, they were battling a mysterious salt-sucking monster. Already three redshirts had died, so we were making pretty good progress. Not like I didn’t know how it was going to end, I had seen them all before.  
As the credits rolled I set my empty bowl on the table and opened up a new tab for Facebook. I only used it nowadays to keep in contact with my friends from back home, and to see which new terrorist group has struck again. I swear they were getting more and more frequent.  
Scrolling down I saw that Alice had made an attempt at creating something new today. From the blurry pictures it looked like she glued googly eyes on fruit and made them dance around. She must be extra bored tonight. In weeks past she put the eyes on pillows and stuffed animals and made her own version of the British Parliament. They seemed to be making good progress on immigration policy.  
Laughing a little I closed my laptop and scooted off the bed. Picking up the empty bowl I headed downstairs to deposit it in the sink.   
Drying my hands off on a towel, I looked at the smiling beaver clock on the wall. It was almost seven o’clock already. I had aspirations of doing some more packing before bed tonight, but I was just so tired already that I decided I might as well just go to bed.  
I began my nightly ritual of turning out lights and locking the doors. I wasn’t paranoid of a break in, but I had lived in a populated area at school long enough to know that you always lock your door; because the one time you don’t will be one time you regret it. Murphy’s Law, or something like that.  
After flicking off all the lights downstairs I headed upstairs again to take a shower, get changed into pajamas and brush my teeth. Walking into the bathroom I was greeted with the scent of lemon soap and a fluffy bathmat. After showering and getting dressed, I glanced up in the mirror. My tired hazel eyes stared back at me, begging me to get actual sleep tonight rather than staying up again.  
I sighed as I studied my reflection and pushed back hair from my face. I gave up on my appearance long ago; no matter what I did, it never helped. I just wasn’t a pretty person. I always looked tired no matter how much sleep I got, and I wasn’t the kind of person who got asked to dances or dates. I was plain, and everyone knew it; including me. Oh well, I guess people just had to like me for my winning personality, or whatever.  
Switching off the bathroom light I went up the ladder once again. I turned off almost all of the string lights except for one strand that was on the railing surrounding the hatch, just in case I had to get up in the night. I didn’t like sleeping in complete darkness anyway.  
Climbing into bed I pulled down the blue flowered comforter and laid back. Glancing at the clock I could see that it was barely 8. I was such a party animal. Whee.  
The rain had picked up again and its steady drumming on the roof directly above me was as good as a warm blanket. I dropped off to sleep within a few minutes without much thought.  
***  
I was stuck. I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing there. It was dark, and I was pressed on all sides with something that had a strange texture, like the insides of a pumpkin, but more solid. I tried to move but I couldn’t break free of the spongy confines. I also felt something tied to my wrists and ankles. I could move them but my range was limited; like being shackled to a wall. This wasn’t good. Uncontrollable panic welled up inside me, and I started screaming. I knew no one could hear me, but it helped to release some of the hysteria. After what seemed like hours I stopped screaming, my throat raw. All was silent, until I realized the growing noise from outside my prison. It was like a wall of static was hurtling towards me. It was so loud I had to clamp my hands over my ears. I needed to see what it was. I needed to know. I started pushing with all my strength against the wall in front of me, letting my panic help me push. But the wall was unbearably stretchy. I closed my eyes against the darkness and pushed even harder, willing it to break. Instead of breaking, something strange happened in the darkness. I felt like I opened my eyes, but I was looking outside my body. My vision moved out and I saw outside of where I was trapped. I seemed to be in a large round sack, that was suspended on all sides by thousands of tangled threads. The harsh orange light of wherever I was made me feel more uneasy, I started looking for a way out.  
None. There was nothing. No rips or tears or anything.   
I was never getting out.  
I tried to see what the static sound was, but could see nothing in view. The more I listened, the more of the static I could understand.   
They were voices. And songs. And instruments. And ideas. It sounded like I was listening to a billion streams of consciousness all at once. All overlapping. All together. There was no order; just an indistinguishable frenzy of vocalizations.  
Where was I?  
My attention was turned back to my pod, as I could see black liquid beginning to come through the thousands of strands, straight to where my body was.  
I panicked and something slipped. I was back in my body and could hear the rushing of the black liquid. I started screaming again. The black liquid was filling the pod, and it was all I could feel.  
I didn’t scream for much longer after that.  
There wasn’t anything after that.  
Nothing.  
Just darkness.


	6. The Barn of Mice and Pens

I knew that I was awake, but I didn’t want to open my eyes. I had a feeling that it was early in the morning, and I still felt exhausted. After a few minutes I decided to accept the inevitable, and cracked open my eyelids.  
Soft yellow light filtered in from the window above me, making a nice oval shape of color on my bed. I sat up slowly and took a couple of deep breaths. Not the weirdest nightmare I had ever had, but it was up there.   
I stretched my arms in the air, and was surprised how stiff and sore I was. I guess I tensed up last night while I was sleeping. Not very surprising, as being drowned by black goo can make a person feel a little on edge.   
The clock on the nightstand read 6:37am. I sighed. I guess now was as good a time as ever to start the day.  
A quick look out the window revealed that today would be very much like yesterday, weatherwise, so I opted for a long sleeved shirt and jeans again. I headed down to the kitchen for breakfast.   
While I ate a bowl of cereal at the table in the dining room, I thought about the dream while looking at the back of the box of Cheerios (GREAT for your cholesterol!). Most bits were hazy, but I kind of remembered the pod-thing, and the blackness. In fact I didn’t think I’d ever be able to forget the blackness.  
The thought of that made it hard to finish my cereal, but I knew I needed the energy. I was still sticking to my resolution to tackle the barn today.  
After I was done, I rinsed my bowl and went to go get my jacket and a flashlight. It was barely seven in the morning, but I knew putting it off would be a mistake.  
I figured my first job was just to go and assess the situation, so I didn’t bring anything besides me, my semi-useless phone, and a small pocket flashlight.  
I took a deep breath and walked out the front door.  
It was a bit drizzly, but I didn’t mind; not even bothering to put up my hood as I left the porch.   
There were four buildings on the property altogether: the house, the two metal storage sheds, and the barn. All of which were situated at the bottom of a valley surrounded by towering pines, evergreens, and oak trees. There was a small clearing around the house and barn that let in a bit more light, but everything else was largely shaded by the imposing expanse of the forest.   
I made my way down to the left toward the barn. Ignoring all thoughts of axe murderers waiting for me around the corner, I strode to the entrance. I stopped short of actually going inside, and paused to look up at the front. It was kind of an odd place to put a barn. The entire foundation was surrounded by rock that someone had tried very hard to get rid of. In fact, the whole barn looked to be built on what seemed to be what was left of a large granite deposit. I wondered why they picked literally the hardest place on the property to build this massive thing.   
As I looked in from the outside, it didn’t seem so bad. There were a few stalls on the lower level that I guess used to hold horses or livestock at one point. I walked inside and looked around to my left and right. Everywhere I looked was roughly the same: old grayish wood and dust. The lower level continued pretty much in a box shape, with the exception of a small closet that jutted out from the wall.  
It was really quiet. The light drizzle behind me made no noise at all as I walked further inside. Like walking into a vacuum. I had an uneasy feeling just standing in here, though I didn’t know if it was from the creepiness of the silence or still lingering from the nightmare. Either way, I didn’t like it.  
The only light I had to work with was the soft, diluted, silver light from the clouds, so I began hunting for a lightswitch. Did they even have electricity in here?  
After searching for a couple minutes I found a pair of light switches behind a group of wooden planks that had been stood up against the wall.  
“Aha,” I mumbled to myself, “Found you.”  
I leaned and flipped on the pair of switches. I half expected them to explode on contact.   
But they didn’t. I heard the hum of electricity above me and looked up to see two old metal lamps come to life; casting a soft orange and gold glow onto the colorless scene.  
There, that was a little better.   
The back wall of the ancient building was lined with metal shelves that held a myriad of old farm tools and equipment. Among them I spotted some rusty hedge clippers, an axe, and a few coils of rope.  
I began to survey more of the bottom before heading upstairs, when something made a loud gurgling sound directly behind me that made my heart explode.   
“Grrrmmmeooow.”  
I didn’t scream exactly, just made a very undignified squeaking sound.  
I whirled around and stumbled back, only to come face to face with a dirty black cat who was perched at eye level on one of wooden boards. He had the most luminescent green eyes I had ever seen, and apparently he used them for staring into your soul. Because that's what it felt like.  
“Geez cat!” I breathed. I executed a lot of restraint not to swear and bent over bracing myself on my knees, “What is wrong with you?! You gave me a heart attack! My heart actually exploded.”  
“Grrmeow.”  
Yeah I didn’t really expect an answer.  
“Where did you even come from? Were you Terry and Susan’s?”  
“Grmeeow.”  
I sighed,“I’m not going to get any information from you am I?”  
“Gremeow.”  
“Ok, ok fine. You don’t have to answer me.”  
I lifted my hand experimentally, but he just stood there. I held it out to him and he gave a tentative sniff. After smelling for a bit he started pushing his head into my hand. I scratched him behind the ears and seem to activate the purring mechanism. He started drooling.  
I chuckled quietly. He flicked his tail in the air, jumped off the wood planks, and sauntered over to the stairs.  
“Is it time for me to go upstairs now?” I asked.  
“Grmeow.”  
“Ok then, upstairs it is.”  
Now that I had my newfound friend, this place didn't seem half as scary. I didn’t know why I thought it was so terrifying in the first place. I went to the stairs and started my ascent.  
There was no railing for the old stairs, and the lamps were a ways away, making it hard to see. The barn was tall enough that if I fell I would probably break my neck, so I took out the flashlight and picked my way a bit more carefully than I would normally.   
When I got up to the top I was greeted once again by my furry pal. He seemed to be waiting for me.  
“Hi.” I said. I shone my flashlight on the wall hoping to find another lightswitch, which I did. Turning it on, I faced the room.  
As the weak light above flickered on, I saw the outline of boxes. Lots and lots of boxes.  
Some were cardboard, some were wood, but all of them were roughly the same size in diameter and stacked into a large pile resembling a step pyramid. They were old and extremely dusty, but none were haphazardly strewn about or teetering. Someone put a lot of care into making sure this small mastaba was well stacked and stable.  
I walked around the pyramid; it was a little taller than me, and twice as wide the base. There was nothing else around them but mouse droppings (I guess my little friend was a vegetarian) and yet again: dust.  
Curious, I went to one of the lower wooden boxes and pulled on the lid that was held in place by little tacs. Holding the flashlight in one hand I shined it into the box, where I saw…..?  
Pens. It was filled to the brim with… pens.  
Inside the little wooden crate was a couple hundred pens of various sizes and styles. All stacked neatly. All placed with care.  
...What?  
A lot of the pens looked to be very old, some of them seemed to be made of metal from a long time ago. And others looked as though they were bought yesterday.  
Ok, maybe this was the only crate like this… I went to open a few more on the base.  
Nope, they were all the same. Simply filled with pens. And a few quills were tucked in there as well. All different colors and types. A few were broken in pieces, some were cracked, and some were covered on what looked suspiciously like blood.  
I stood up and backed away from the pyramid with folded arms.  
Alright. So. Ok then.   
Hmm.  
I heard a gurgle-meow beneath me, and looked down to see a pair of bright green eyes looking up at me.  
“Can you, uh, tell me what this is all about?” I asked  
For an answer I received silence. Silence and a nudge on the leg. Great.  
Well ok, that was, a little weird. I walked around the other side of the boxes to the windows on the far side of the room.   
From the dirty windows I had a vantage point of the house, and one of the two sheds; the other being blocked by a tree. I peered down at the green ground below me, it was quite a ways down from the windows. I undid the ancient corroded latch on the bottom and heaved upward. It stuck at first, but after a good tug the window came open. I leaned outside and looked up at the roof of the barn. Despite it being so old, the siding and shingles of the barn were really well intact. No splintering on the side or anything.  
I withdrew from the window and closed it. Considering the room, I thought it looked a little strange. Besides thousands of pens so respectfully stacked in the middle, I mean.  
Just the way the room was laid out didn’t feel even. I was no feng shui expert, but was it just me, or was everything here shifted a little bit to the left?  
I walked over to the stairs again and stood in what was supposed to be the center of the room.  
Except it wasn’t.  
The rafters were exposed, so I could see that where the ridge beam lined up with the wall. And the two windows on the opposite side were off center by a couple of feet. How had I not noticed that when I walked in?  
I went back the windows and walked heel to toe from sidewall to sidewall, taking a measurement. Going back downstairs (carefully) I walked the same spot underneath the windows from one side all the way to the other.  
It was off by about 20 feet.  
Factoring in the the thickness of the walls to be, let's say 7 ft in all, and my margin for error to be about 2… that's still 11 feet unaccounted for.  
11 feet. That could be a whole room.  
Heading back inside, I went to the back wall and located a hefty axe, and a piece of scrap metal that I intended to use as a crowbar.  
Excitedly I hurried back up the stairs where I found my little friend waiting calmly and patiently next to one of opened boxes of pens.  
“Hi there little one,” I said crouching, “I wonder what architect in their right mind put windows 11 feet off center.” I put down the axe and stroked him on the head. He nudged my palm with his nose.  
“Greeow.” he replied  
“You’re right, they wouldn’t.”  
“Grmeooow.”  
“Don’t worry, I won’t chop off my own leg.”  
I picked up the axe and got up. Time to find out what’s behind the wall.  
I hefted the axe in my hands, and scrutinized the wall. If this was a video game, there would be a nice little crack or splinter on the timber where I needed to but the bomb. But I had no bombs, and the old planks looked identical. I got closer and ran my hand along the boards, starting from left to right. As I got closer to the windows, I felt a slight draft from behind the timbers.   
I paused, looked out the window, and waited. When the boughs on the closest tree moved in the breeze, I turned my attention to the planks. I felt a puff of air.  
Bingo.  
I stood back and readied the axe. I was not an especially small person. The best way to describe me was average in all ways. That being said, I was a lot stronger than I looked. Or, so I had been told over the years.  
I gave a good swing at the place where I felt the draft and the axe sunk into the wood. A couple more swings and I had made a sizable hole, big enough for me to put in my makeshift crowbar.  
After I pulled some wood off the top of the hole, I looked inside the gap I had made with a flashlight, and… wait, was that a door?  
I stood on my tiptoes and looked down in the gap. It was a door! About a foot from the apparently false wall I had just hacked open was the real wall of the barn. And in that wall, was a door.  
A few minutes later I stood facing the excavated door; panting, full of splinters, but excited. Who knew how long this was boarded up! Well actually, judging from the wood I just took down, not super long. It wasn't discolored on the other side of the timber. Someone had stained the side facing the rest of the room to make it look old. Maybe ten years at the most.  
The door itself was kind of strange. The faded pattern on it matched the stain glass window in the loft; something I found out later in a geometry class that's known as Metatron's Cube. It was a symbol named after the Archangel Metatron, and is a shape made from what's known as ‘sacred geometry’. Which was the belief that life and the world around us was formed from shared geometric patterns, or something like that. And the Cube was one of those shapes, formed with thirteen circles in the center.  
The one in the loft is a simplified version, but this one was the whole thing. All 78 lines.  
Unlike everything else in this barn, the door was made out of metal; or that's how it looked anyway. To be honest, I was kind of afraid to touch it. It was boarded up for a reason, and maybe it should stay that way.  
I felt a rub on my leg and was awarded with a ‘Grmeow’.  
“Yeah, yeah I know, I’m going.” I murmured.  
I took a deep breath and stepped toward the knob.


	7. Tetherball

It… wouldn't open.  
“Oh come on.” I said tugging a bit harder. The handle turned smoothly, but no matter how hard I pulled, the door wouldn’t budge. I stopped yanking for a minute to consider my options. I could look for a key, but I had no idea where to start. And if it was stashed in the house or, heaven forbid the sheds, I would likely never find it in this lifetime.  
Actually, the door didn’t even have a keyhole. So much for that plan.  
I went and sat down on one of the wooden crates and looked at the door. I still had the axe, and the wall around it was wood. This was an actual wall though, not a fake one, so I doubted that I could get through with just a few swings.  
My little friend meowed at me.  
I sighed. “Well, looks like we won’t get in there after all.” I scratched his head, “How about we give you a name, huh?” he gave me an indifferent look.  
“You don’t look like a Spot, or a Fluffy. In fact you don’t even really look like a cat name to me. I could just call you Cat,” no signs of recognition. He was unbearably dusty; like he had just crawled out of a tomb.  
Wait, cat, tomb.   
Got it.  
“How about Catacombs?” I tried. He cocked his head and sat down.  
“Grmeow.” he responded.  
“Is that alright with you?” he flicked his tail and meowed again at me.  
I laughed. “Ok, Catacombs it is then.” he started purring.  
After a minute of purring and rolling around he got up and went to sit facing the door.  
He turned and looked at me.  
“What?” I asked, “Don’t give me that look, I tried to get it open, but it won’t give.”  
With what I assumed to be an exasperated cat look, he placed a paw on the door, and then set it down again.  
Oh.  
I got up again. If this was the answer I was going to feel incredibly stupid.  
Reaching forward for the knob again, I gave it a nudge forward.  
The door opened smoothly.  
I was the biggest idiot on the planet.  
It was a freaking push.  
Groaning, I put my head in my hands. And here I was going to try and axe down the door frame.  
I put a hand on the door, and pushed it inward.  
What I expected to see was more old boxes, and maybe some old family portraits tucked away for safekeeping.  
I didn’t see that.  
What I actually saw was a small, white room filled with cobwebs, and a poorly boarded up broken window on the back of it. I guess I never made it to the other side of the barn, or I would have seen that.  
In the center of the room was what looked to be… a tetherball pole.  
It kind of looked like what I used to play tetherball on as a kid. It had a wide, large, metal bucket on the bottom, a long, sturdy copper pole jutting up from the center.   
...Alright.  
As I walked closer, I saw that the bucket was filled with what looked like dirt, so I couldn't see the bottom. I looked around the small room in confusion.  
I was officially weirded out now.   
Catacombs came in beside me and sat down again. Looking at the pole.  
I walked around the room. It wasn’t big, maybe 10x10 feet in all, and there was nothing in it but the… well, what I guessed was a portable tetherball pole.  
What was this? Some childhood relic that they felt was too precious, and hid it behind a false wall?  
Maybe this thing was just too heavy and they couldn’t move it?   
I stepped forward to grab the pole, and suddenly had the same overwhelming sense of uncontrollable fear as when I entered the barn. I drew my hands back and was about to run out of the room screaming, but Catacombs rubbed up against my leg, and all at once I felt fine.  
What was going on?  
This was not normal. Nothing about this room felt like I should be here right now. I should go.  
Nudge.  
And I was fine.  
Before I lost my nerve again, I went to touch the pole. My hand came in contact with the smooth, cold metal. Nothing spectacular happened. I no longer felt like running away, though, so that was good. I spotted Catacombs in the corner, munching on a small bug that he had caught in his mouth.  
I turned my attention to the base of the pole. The metal bucket was very large at the mouth, but not half as deep. I shook the pole a little, it didn’t budge. Even though I couldn’t see the bottom, I figured it was welded to the bucket, making it so sturdy.  
The ‘dirt’ upon closer inspection wasn’t really dirt, but large brown beads that moved like sand. I put my hand in and tried to pick some up, but the pebbles were slick, and extremely hard to hold on to. I had never seen anything like them.  
I tried to get to the bottom of the bucket by scooping them to one side, but the nature of their slipperiness made them always stay level, so I couldn’t make any progress.  
I was going to try and just stick my hand in and touch the bottom but my common sense kicked in. Who knows how long this thing has been here? There could be broken glass and rusted nails in there for all I knew.   
I thought about it for a minute.  
Eh screw it, I had my tetanus shot.  
I plunged my hand into the bucket. It was a weird feeling, all of those pebbles sliding past my arm. They didn’t give any resistance at all, it was like they weren’t even there.  
Wow, the bucket was a lot deeper than I thought. And cold. I was almost up to my elbows. Now past my elbows. Any second now I would hit bottom.  
...aaaany second now.  
I was now up to my shoulder in the pebbles.  
I wiggled my arm a little, it was so hard to tell if there was even more beads where my hand was. Was this a false bottom floor? Did I just put my hand straight through a hole in the wood? That must have been it.  
I got up and backed away from the bucket.  
A hole in the floor. That had to be it, right?   
I mean what else could it be?  
Slightly disturbed I backed out of the room, past the stack of boxes, and back down the stairs. Striding over to where I imagined the room would be above, and started scanning the ceiling.   
Nothing.  
Not even a crack.   
Just floorboards.  
Well, what did I do now? I briefly thought about just leaving the barn and never returning; that way I wouldn’t have to deal with any of it. I could just walk away like nothing ever happened.  
No, there was no way I could do that. Frankly my curiosity would never allow it; and I knew better than to let it sit unresolved for any period of time.  
I wished for a way that I could see what was going on at the bottom. Like maybe a hole in the side if the bucket, or a camera, or....  
Wait a minute.  
A camera.   
Ah internal stupidity, we meet again.  
Taking out my phone I again traversed the stairs. Seems it didn’t end up being so useless after all.  
Again I walked past the pyramid of writing utensils, and again I entered the room with the mysterious tetherball pole. Kneeling down next to it, I switched on my phone and waited for it to turn on.  
It occurred to me how silly I must have looked; waiting on the floor clutching my phone, staring skeptically at a bucket with a pole in in.  
Not how I thought this day was going to go.  
Once I got the beep-boop and clock reminder (Thursday, October 15th; It’s 8:15 am and raining, stay dry today!) to let me know my phone was on, I switched to camera mode. I didn’t really know how this was going to work with lighting and stuff, but I thought it would be okay without flash.  
Keeping a very tight grip on my phone, I lowered my arm back into the bucket as far as I could. Holding on to the rim, I was soon up to my shoulder in the strange slippery pearls again. I pushed the button on the side a my phone a few times to get some pictures; moving my arm a bit to get several angles. After a minute of spamming the button, I pulled my arm back out and sat back on my heels.  
When I pulled myself back up to see what I had captured, I was confused.  
They were black. Just black. The more I scrolled down my list the more black I saw.  
But it wasn’t the darkness that confused me, it was the one picture at the end.  
Instead of darkness I saw light.   
There wasn’t anything distinct about it, just blurred colors. But they were there: warm oranges and soft rose light with pinks and lavenders mixed in between.  
I tried doing the same thing again, but with a video. Maybe the camera app was weirding out, or something.  
Same thing happened; one frame of blurred bright colors and the rest just blackness.  
I sat back on the floor and put a hand to my head. Was I dreaming? Was this one of those dreams that you think you're awake, but you are still asleep and have no idea?  
No, I didn’t think so. I flexed my fingers and felt the pain of the splinters I had acquired pulling the wood off of the wall. And that felt real.  
Ok, so I probably wasn’t asleep.  
So what did I do now?  
Again, I considered my options. Most of them seemed like I should just stop messing with this room and leave it alone.  
Well, that wasn’t going to happen.  
Catacombs emerged from the other room and sat beside me. I gave him a pat.  
“Hey buddy,” I sighed, “I have to admit, I’m pretty stumped by this one.”  
“Grmeow.”  
“No, I don’t think I’m going insane.”  
“Grmeow.”  
“Yes I know I am talking to a cat.”  
“Grmeow.”  
“No, that does not make me crazy by default.”   
He got up and stretched for a while. After he was done, he gave me one last look over his shoulder before going over to the bucket.  
“Hey, what are you-”  
Before I could do anything, he lept on the rim, and jumped into the bucket.  
I stared openmouthed. After a minute of stunned silence I came to my senses.  
“Catacombs?” I called, getting to my feet. I rushed over to the bucket and tried to push some of the beads away from where he jumped, but to no avail.  
Ok, now I had to do something.  
I didn’t know what was down there, but Catacombs could be hurt by the fall or worse. And in the last hour I had gotten really attached to the little guy.  
I rushed back downstairs and went over to the shelves where I found the axe. There were three coils of rope there, and I took two.  
For the record, I knew what I was about to do was incredibly stupid.  
I ran back up the stairs and into the hayloft. There was some exposed beams on the side wall opposite the white room, and I tied one of the coils to it. Rolling it out I found the end and tied the second coil onto that one.  
After making sure those two were completely tied, I fastened the remaining end around my waist, and pulled it tight.  
Maybe at the bottom there was another secret room, and I just couldn’t find it from the bottom floor.  
That had to be it.  
I wasn’t sure how long the drop was from the bucket, but it couldn’t be more than a couple feet.   
Taking a deep breath I strode to the bucket, said a prayer to whoever might be listening, and grabbed hold of the cold copper pole.  
I wasn’t sure if the pole went all the way into the next room, but I kept hold of it just in case I could use it to soften the fall.  
Mounting the pole fireman style, I slid down past the strange beads, and looked up at the ceiling.  
Maybe this was a bad idea.


	8. Roses

I did not appreciate the presence of the beads.   
I couldn't feel them on my clothes or hands, but they felt weird on my face, and made it hard to blink. I squinted my eyes against them and slid down the pole very slowly, trying to avoid a sharp drop and a sudden stop.   
One of the beads landed in my eye, causing me to reflexively shut them tight and scrunch back. I didn’t like things touching my eyes; it freaked me out.  
This room below was a whole lot farther down than I thought, I was still sliding after a minute’s time. Granted I was sliding at the pace of a blind snail, but still.  
My eyes were still shut tight, when I gradually slid to a stop.  
A cool breeze rustled my hair, and I breathed in. The wind that swirled past me had a fruity smell to it. And the more I inhaled, the more scents I could name. Lavender, strawberries, fresh cut grass, peaches, lilac, oranges, cherries, roses and something else I couldn’t place, but it seemed familiar.  
I opened my eyes slowly, and the world came into view. I almost lost my grip on the pole as I stared open mouthed at the great expanse before me.  
The first thing I noticed was the color. It seemed that the warm toned oranges and pinks blended into the very fabric of the air itself.  
Gargantuan sphere shaped islands floated immovable in the air around me like small moons in stasis among the pink clouds. They had the shape and general look of a rubber-band ball; but with what looked liked vines and vegetation embedded in the overlapping layers of some sort of white and pink bendy-looking substance. Some of the bigger orbs took up most of my view and I craned my neck to see them. The smaller ones were still very far from being actually small, but in comparison to the others, they were dwarfed.  
Some of these islands were connected by fibers of the same white and rose colored material they were made of. Twisting together they made up bridges connecting the small planets, and hung from them like vines.  
The wind swept gently again and a large purple butterfly fluttered by. The more I looked around the more butterflies and insects I could see; flitting about as if they had no inkling of the impossibility of their existence.  
And for a moment I just hung there, mouth agape in shock and wonder, holding fast to the pole. The only thing I was fairly certain was real was the pole, so I clung to it for dear life.  
I heard music drift by from somewhere, it wasn’t a song, just notes like windchimes. It seemed to be part of the atmosphere; as natural as the air I was breathing.  
Evidently, this was not the secret room that I thought it was.  
Time passed. I faintly realized that my arms started to ache, and I took my eyes off the immense orbs and looked down. I was surprised to see that instead of hanging in midair miles above clouds, there was a island of solid ground about six feet below me. There was quite an assortment of vegetation and rocks on it, but it was mostly flat from my vantage point. The pole went all the way to the bottom.  
I started to slide down the remaining feet, but was stopped short by the rope tied around my waist. Fumbling with the knot, I untied it after a few tugs.  
Carefully sliding down again, my sneakers made contact with the ground. I stepped back from the pole and turned in a circle in disbelief, blinking heavily. All around me floated pink clouds, bugs, and whatever those… sphere things were.  
It was quiet besides the wind and the music that rode in on it. Nothing made a disturbance here. It was just… peaceful.  
Until-  
“Grmeow!”  
This time, I did scream. Loud and shrill.  
“Stop that!” I demanded shattering the silence, “What the what Catacombs?! Why are you this way?!”  
He just looked at me, eyes twinkling. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that he looked smug.   
Well, apparently I didn’t know any better, based on where I was currently standing.  
I looked over at the pole and remembered his lack of opposable thumbs. “How did you even get down here? And what the heck is this?!” I continued gesturing around, “Did you jump down here just to get me here? And where the heck is here? Did I just discover freaking Narnia?!” I was shouting by the end.  
Again, silence.  
“Great,” I said, “I am now arguing with a cat.” I put a hand to my head and sat down on a nearby rock.  
“Gremoew.”  
“No, I don’t feel any better. Sorry for shouting at you.”  
“Grmeow.” he pressed his head to my leg and I gave him a pet.  
I sighed and looked up.   
Everything was still there. Nothing had faded yet, or shifted into something else, like they do in dreams.  
And this had to be a dream.  
It had to be.  
There was no way this was actually happening, right? Maybe I just fell and hit my head, and this was all just a dream.  
Just a really lifelike, really specific fever dream.  
I got up after a minute and surveyed my little island. Upon further investigation, it was bigger than I thought it was. I was on the top tier of what looked to be a long line of similar tiers leading down to a large round islet that had a few of the many long white and pink vines attached to it.  
I started thinking about my next move. I glanced back at the long copper pole. Looking up, I followed it to where I could see the hole in the sky where I had just come from. I could see the little dark beads blocking my view from the barn, and made the hole visible. Looking at it made my brain hurt, and made me feel weird; it was just so… there. Just a hole in the sky.  
Looking forward, I saw the tiers descending down towards a large sphere.  
Well, I knew where the pole went, but I didn’t know what awaited me forward.  
So forward I went.   
Surprisingly, I wasn’t scared senseless. I was a bit freaked out, sure, but I didn’t have the overwhelming sense of dread that I had in the barn. I attributed that to being in shock. I figured the hysteria would hit me soon. Plus I still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t all some dream that I had conjured up.  
It didn’t help that this place, wherever it was, was just so dang beautiful. And peaceful. The clouds surrounding the island drifted lazily and obscuring some of the spheres in the distance. Small tinkling tunes found their way into my ears.  
Catacombs ran ahead of me and vaulted nimbly down the wide steps. I took my time and picked my way carefully. I didn’t want to step on any of the flowers or insects; only in part because I was afraid of smooshing a butterfly and causing World War III somehow. Mostly it was just because the variety and colors; some of them were just astounding, and I didn’t like killing things in general. It always made me feel guilty, no matter how small it was.   
As I got closer to the little round islet, the more details I could see. There wasn’t nearly as much grass and vegetation on this island, especially in the middle. On the outside of the circle there seemed to be what looked like trapdoors. They were all different shapes, but roughly the same size. I saw square, round, hexagonal, octogonal, and even a triangular shaped hatch. All laying quiet and unassuming on an archipelago in this inexplicable world.  
Reaching the end of the small step islands I advanced onto the trapdoor ringed space.  
Walking around the edge by the hatches, I noticed that there were seven in all, and all of them were inscribed with a variety of symbols. I recognized a few of them: an infinity symbol in a circle, a pentagram (the good kind), a few celtic signs, some mandarin characters, and in the center a Metatrons Cube. They were all like this; many emblems scattered in varying degrees, but always in the center was the Cube.  
I reached the far side of the island where the vines joined with the land. I looked down the side past the large white and pink vines to see if there was any more land underneath.  
....Nope. Just endless pink and white clouds. And a drop of certain death.  
Stepping back I considered the vines. Some of them were twice as thick as me in width, and some were the circumference of my arm. But they were all woven and braided together so tightly that you couldn't see through them. They made a pretty effective bridge to the nearest floating orb-thing.  
Now that I was closer to it, I could really see the spheres clearly. They really did look like giant versions of rubber-band balls. Some of the vines that encased the ball sprouted outward and joined up with others with the same idea. Weaving together and circling each other, these pockets made flower shapes. In fact, they looked a lot like some crazy pink and maroon roses. The roses were everywhere, clusters of smaller ones the size of cars, and huge ones the size of castles.  
The vines dug into the dirt at my feet, and it looked as though they ran deep; at least through this round island, maybe more.  
I was curious now. Where did these hatches lead? What was up this bridge? And the most important question of all:  
Where was I?  
“Greemeow.” I heard behind me.  
I turned to see Catacombs sitting in the middle of the small island looking at me.  
I sighed. What was the point in even talking to him. He was a cat. And no matter how expressive his face may seem, he was never going to answer me back. Looking back to the pole, I put a hand to my head and thought.  
I didn’t really know what to do now. I’d always had problems with indecision, one of the many reasons why I was always picked last for sports in school. It just took me too long to formulate a plan when I was given time to think, that I was basically useless in most high stress situations.  
I guess I could start making my way back to the pole, maybe that would get me to wake up?  
Walking up the steps again, I heard an outraged meow behind me and looked down in time to almost step on Catacombs.  
“Woah!” I said, halting , “How did you- you know what? Nevermind.” I stepped around him and continued walking. Again, another meow and suddenly he was directly in my way.  
“What?” I asked. In response he pranced over to one of the trapdoors and meowed at me again.  
I paused and turned, “Do you- want me to open that for you?”  
“Grmeow.”  
“It must suck not having opposable thumbs, huh?”  
“Grmeow.”  
I looked at the hatch. This one was a simple square door made of wood and held together by iron bands. The heavy metal ring was rusty and looked like it would have to be tugged quite a bit to get it to move. The symbols on this one included an infinity sign in a circle, a right side up pentagram, and a celtic symbol that I didn’t know the meaning of. And of course the cube, which seemed to follow me like a bad omen. Small circles were ingrained in the wood, like the rings inside of a tree, making the surface rough and textured.  
Crouching I grabbed hold of the cold handle. It was lighter and easier to move than I thought, and seemed to be pretty well oiled. Like it had been used recently.  
I gave a tug and the trapdoor swung open.  
A musty, damp sort of smell wafted from it. It had a sharp edge of what smelled a bit like cinnamon and sage.  
It was very dark. Not quite true blackness, but there wasn’t enough light to make out any shapes.  
Faintly I saw some color emerge. Very dim, muted greens pulsed into existence, and then were gone.  
I leaned in to try and see what it was, but suddenly jolted forward as something pushed me from behind. I tried to keep my balance, but I wasn’t prepared for the shove that came from nowhere.   
Arms wheeling I tried to grab onto something, but couldn’t find a handhold. So I was left tumbling headfirst into the darkness with a startled yell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	9. Roger That

There was this one time a few summers ago where me, Alice, and a few other friends went to a nearby river to swim. Before too long, the guys had found a large rock to jump off of repeatedly. After an hour or so of watching them do this, Alice stated she would not be outdone, and went up to join them. And of course, I followed. Standing there at the edge of the rock, staring down at the water, I had second thoughts. But my pride would not allow me to climb back down the rock, past all of my friends, so I ended up jumping off eventually.  
It was a lot farther down than it looked from the water. I fell for a long time, it seemed. You know, enough to really think about it.  
That's what this felt like.  
For a moment I had no sense of direction, just the wind rushing past me, falling into the darkness. I must have flipped over at one point, because I could see the square of pink light in the sky growing smaller and smaller. That was the only point of reference to see as I was tumbling into oblivion.  
I was probably screaming, but the rushing air took it from me so all I heard was the wind.  
I had the sudden sensation of being dunked in chilly water, and I could see something other than the small square of light.  
Nothing much could register but I did see green and blue, and a me-shaped hole in what I assumed was clouds.  
I hit something and it turned me around just in time to see a blur of color, and then trees. Their branches ripping past me, breaking and bending. I put my hands out to stop myself, and all I grabbed was leaves. I did catch a branch, and it jerked me violently jarring my right shoulder, but I couldn't hold on, so I kept falling.  
I gave an ‘oof!’ as I hit the ground, and everything went gray.   
Ow.  
Disjointed thoughts slowly came back; I registered that I was lying facedown on what felt like moss. I smelled the sharp odor of wet dirt, and strange spices. I cracked open my eyes.  
I was met with what did indeed look like moss, except it was glowing bright blue.  
I wasn’t quite sure if my legs worked yet, so I rolled over onto my back. Shooting pain went through my shoulder as I rolled, and I winced. It felt like it was either dislocated or bruised. It didn’t move quite right and felt stuck.  
The biggest ferns I had ever seen looked down at me. They were surrounded by trees that were so large they looked like skyscrapers. There was no light to speak of, save the moss that was glowing beneath me and some of the bark on the giant trees. A bird called in the distance.  
It took me some time to start to breath normally again. When I finally had even breaths going in and out, I tried to sit up. My shoulder zinged with pain again, but I was up.  
Everything hurt. I felt like I had just fallen off a four story building.  
Oh, wait.  
I put my hands on the moss and tried to stand up. More pain. I looked down at my hands and saw dozens of cuts in various sizes crisscrossing on my palms.  
Again, ow.  
Standing up unsteadily, I looked around. Everything was dark, but I could sort of detect more enormous trees, and other plant life being lit from beneath. I looked up and saw a vast canopy of purple colored leaves covering the sky. Or, maybe they just looked purple in this light.  
It seemed I had landed in a clearing, as there wasn’t much in the circle around me. Just strange plants that reminded me of some bizarre rainforest.  
As I turned around in a circle shakily, I missed the huge yellow eyes staring at me from the colored darkness. I also missed the low growl.  
The growling behind me got louder, and my blood ran cold. I turned around slowly and saw a strange creature, head low, slinking towards me. It looked like a cross between a lizard and a tiger. It’s spiny, fur-like scales were patterned with swirls that gleamed fluorescent green. It’s large head was shaped like a tiger, but with steely, wide-set, reptilian eyes.  
I started slowly backing away, it followed. I was keenly aware of the blood on my hands, and hoped this, tiger-lizard thing, wasn’t like sharks in a frenzy when it smelled blood.   
Thankfully, there was only the soft, luminous moss on the ground, and I didn’t see any sti-  
SNAP  
Well crap.  
I tensed up, but the creature showed no indication of having heard the stick snap. It just kept advancing. It’s tail flicked, and I saw it was lined with sharp spines, tipped with purple. They seemed to move with the tail, a few of them sticking straight out.  
I was going to reach the end of the clearing soon. I tried to keep calm, and started looking for options.  
To my left and my right were more trees, but the right seemed to have less density than the left did. I could probably squeeze through; but so could the creature.  
The left was much more dense, as in I couldn’t fit an arm between the first few trees. But it was lighter, and I could see a bit further in to know that it went on for only a few feet being that close-knit.  
I bumped against a tree behind me. The creature was only about twenty feet away from me now.  
My hand found what felt like a loose branch leaning against the tree. I picked it up.  
The tiger-lizard stopped advancing, tail flicking. Its muscles on its hind legs were twitching. I had seen cat fights before, enough to know that it was about to strike. I didn’t have much time left to make a decision.  
I waited as long as I could.  
Three...two...one…  
I saw its eyes widen.  
Zero.  
I flung the stick from behind my back to the left of the creature. That startled it, and its eyes followed the stick for a second.  
But only for a second.  
In that second I booked it for the right of the clearing and into the trees.  
I squeezed through the tightly packed trees, and into the darkness. I heard a raspy hiss of a roar behind me, but I kept running.  
The forest was much less dense now, and I poured on the speed. Fueled by adrenaline I moved my shaky legs as fast as they would go.  
I knew the fastest way to an object was a straight line, and I should probably run in a zigzag. But I had a feeling this thing was good around corners. Instead I focused on weaving in and out between the trees, hoping it would slow it down.  
I heard something whiz past my ear, and thud into a nearby tree. And again, and again. I tried to see what they were, but I was running and was beginning to get tunnel vision. I heard another thud in one of the trees in front; straining my eyes it looked like what appeared to be long slender spikes the size of my arm sticking out of it.  
Oh great.  
The tail.  
The ground was becoming more uneven now, and rocky. I had to start watching my step.  
I felt a sharp sting on my left leg, and instantly felt wobbly. I lost my balance and tumbled into a nearby shallow ravine.  
Even though I was rolling over rocks and sticks, nothing registered pain except for my leg. It was an odd sensation, like when your leg falls asleep and you feel like you have pins and needles. But this was like having pins and needles injecting acid.  
Rolling to a stop, I clutched my leg and yelped through gritted teeth. I looked for a sharp spine, but found none. It looked like it had just grazed me on the side of my knee. Any movement caused searing pain, and my vision to blur.  
Well, at least I knew I wasn’t dreaming anymore.  
Real handy knowledge when I was probably about to die.  
I tried to push myself against the ravine wall to stand up, but the wall crumbled when I grabbed it and I fell again.  
Vaguely I noticed the creature stalking toward me; it was getting hard to see. My ears started ringing, and I couldn't hear anything else. Just muted sounds. Everything was going simultaneously black and white; like film that had been exposed to light.  
It was harder and harder to form coherent thought.  
I could see the dark shape of the creature. It’s long slender tail poised in the air.  
This was it.   
I was dead.  
I waited. My eyes were still open slightly. All I could see were shapes.   
Another shape appeared in front of me.   
A flash of muted pink light, and then...nothing.  
Just darkness.

***  
Nothing made any sense. I wasn’t asleep, but I wasn’t awake either. Everything was dark, and any thoughts I had were disjointed and made no sense; just words that held no meaning.  
I didn’t remember anything before the darkness, and I couldn't really see anything beyond it.   
I felt like I was just swimming on the edge of... something. What was that word again?  
It was loud, I was almost consumed by the static that pulsed in and out. Like a badly tuned radio that was getting turned up and down.  
My head hurt. And so did a lot of other things. In fact, the other pains sharpened as I focused on them.  
I was still swimming after a while. But swimming in what? What was that word?  
It was like… bobbing on the surface of-  
Consciousness.  
That was the word.   
My fingers twitched a little and my eyes snapped open.  
Everything was blurry for a minute. And bright. It took a second to focus on anything.  
Slowly, things came into view.  
I was laying on my back, staring up at an old-fashioned globe lamp suspended above my head. It was a soft yellow light that was comforting, in a way. The ceiling above it was dark, striking a great contrast with the bright light.  
The more I woke up, the more I realized that literally everything on my body ached.  
Summoning my strength I tried to sit up.  
Bad idea.  
I made it to the sitting position, but not without almost blacking out again.  
A soft blanket covered me. As I sat up it fell away from my shoulders and onto my legs. I was a bit cold. I looked down to see that my jacket was gone, and I was just in my long sleeved shirt.  
A dull ache flared up from my leg and winced a little. Pulling back the blanket, I saw that my jeans had been pushed up above my left knee. A large amount of dried blood clotted on the side of it. I figured that was where I got hit by the spike thing. There was a large gash running from the back of my leg to the front, just below my knee. Yellow colored thread crisscrossed the cut, preventing me from bleeding to death.  
I am so glad I was unconscious for that.  
Moving the blanket all the way off me, I felt another twinge of pain in my shoulder. I moved it around a little, expecting to find it dislocated, but it moved smoothly. I guess it was just bruised after all.  
Swinging my legs off the side of where I was laying, which appeared to be an old victorian chaise lounge, I prepared myself to stand.  
I looked around for something to grab onto. I was in what looked like a study from the 1800’s.   
Bookshelves lined the walls, chairs and tables were in little gatherings of circles throughout the room. The dark oak paneling lined the walls, ceiling, and floor. A large, ornate rug dominated the center of the room.  
There was a table and chair next to me, so I grabbed onto the chair and hoisted myself up, leaning heavily on my right leg. Putting some weight on my bad leg, I tested if I could walk. It was pretty painful, but nothing compared to the pain that the spike had caused earlier.   
I limped around the room, looking for a way out. All was quiet except for a ticking clock on a nearby shelf.   
There were three doors in this room: one on either side of me, and one straight ahead. Going for the one closest to me on the left, I staggered to the handle.  
It swung open smoothly, and quietly.  
This door led to a long hallway, with nothing but a few paintings along the wall, and a single hanging lamp in the middle. With nothing to hold onto I would have to walk normally to the door at the far end. And I wasn’t completely sure that I could walk all that way.  
I started down the hallway; getting about halfway before I realized that I would not be making it. My vision was already starting to blur, and my ears were ringing again. Falling to my knees, I clutched my head with one hand and braced myself on the floor with another.  
I heard the door open and a muffled cry of surprise before I passed out again.  
I was on a roll today.  
***  
“Well, I didn’t think you would try to get up so fast. Geez.”  
I woke up a bit faster this time. I was dimly aware of being propped against a wall. The voice seemed a million miles away, but as I woke up more, it got closer. It was full of kindness, albeit a bit exasperated.  
I opened my eyes. I blurrily saw my leg was bleeding a bit again, so that was cool.   
And I said the only thing that made sense in that moment.  
“Ow.” I groaned.  
I tried to sit up a little more, but was gently pushed back down.  
“No no, you need to just sit for a second, alright? I know you’re confused, and probably a little freaked out, but just give yourself a minute to wake up all the way.”  
I blinked a few times, and looked around. I was still in the hallway, but now accompanied by a guy dressed in a gray long sleeve shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. He looked to be a bit older than me, maybe his mid twenties, and was taking out some gauze from a first aid kit and folding it into a thick square. He took out some scissors and held out the gauze to me.  
“Can you hold this for me?” he asked.  
I took the gauze and held it taut for him to cut it, which he did. He then took out some medical tape, ripped off a piece, and taped the gauze tightly to my bleeding leg.  
“Is that too tight?” he asked putting the things back in the first aid kit and zipping it.  
“Uh,” I said, “No, it's fine. Thank you. Um,” I began, “Where-”  
He held up a hand, “Hang on, let's get you back to the other room so we’re not on the ground.”  
I nodded slowly. What else was I going to do?  
I started to get up myself, but he grabbed me under my arm and helped me up. I was pretty unsteady, and was grateful for the assistance.   
Standing up was hard, but walking was twice the battle. After I started going in a rhythm, it got easier. We eventually made it back to the other room. He steered me over to the old victorian chaise lounge where I woke up, and I sat down, panting a little.  
“Ok,” I huffed, “I’m sitting down. Can you tell me whats going on-, uh, I’m sorry, what's your name?”  
“Roger.” he said, “What's yours?”  
“Lily.”  
“Nice to meet you, Lily.”  
“Its nice to meet you too, Roger.”  
He pulled out the chair I had used to pull myself up earlier, and sat down facing me.  
“First things first,” he said, “Do you feel nauseous or dizzy right now? Do you feel like you are going to pass out again, I mean. Also does your mouth taste like you just ate toothpaste?”  
I stared at him; waiting for the punchline.  
No, he was being completely serious.  
“Uh no, and no?” It really wasn’t an answer, more like another question.  
“Ok good. That means you probably won’t be dead in the next hour, so that's progress.” he got up and went over to one of the tables in the middle of the room. He grabbed a pitcher and looked inside.  
“Do you want some grape juice?” he offered.  
What? “Um, sure.” I said.  
He grabbed two cups from a nearby tray and poured some grape juice. Walking back to his seat he handed me one and took a drink from his.  
“Um, thanks.” I took a sip. It was indeed grape juice. I don’t know why I just trusted a drink from this guy I met a couple minutes ago.  
A thought occurred to me.  
“Wait,” I said, “Did you just wait to offer me grape juice until after you knew I wasn’t going to die in an hour? What, did you not want to waste it?”  
He looked offended.“What? No! Thats terrible, why would I do that? Do you think I’m that selfish not to offer someone a beverage on their deathbed?”  
He shifted uncomfortably.  
I raised an eyebrow.  
He sighed.  
“Ok, you probably have some questions.”  
I stared at him again.  
You’re dang right I have some questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus comes to the end of what I'm going to show you. If you want to leave any comments or suggestions, I would love to hear them. And just know that I'm a jerk and have about 25 more chapters of this and a whole bunch more stuff. I really have no idea what possessed me to upload these today, but well... here you go.  
> If you liked it, great! I'm glad that I could entertain you for a while.   
> And if you hated it, fantastic, I'm always up for constructive criticism. Emphasis on the word 'constructive'.


End file.
